Target
by KWillows
Summary: Sara and Greg have a little fun in the lab.
1. Chapter 1

**Target**

An entertaining game with Sara and Greg

Sara Sidle is well known around the Las Vegas Crime Lab for having an attitude. She wants things when she wants them and never any other time. She's similar to the other female in that respect, but they have different extremes. Sara woke up one evening after a fitful sleep and began to prepare herself for work.

She never truly worried about her appearance (as Catherine had pointed out once before) so it was a short process. She had plenty of time left over when she finished, so she settled herself down on the thrift store couch and grabbed a book. Like every other book she owned it was on forensics. This one was a particular favorite and she could quote most of it.

The timer on her oven went off, reminding her it was time to leave for work. She got in her Denali after taking a moment to admire the insignia on the side and drove off. The automatic doors whirred open when she stepped up to the motion sensor.

Judy, the receptionist, was in tears, her curls matted with moisture. Conrad Ecklie, whose skin vaguely resembled that of a tomato, was yelling at her. Sara could almost see the strings of spit flying from his mouth. He nearly drowned a person every time he spoke.

She turned to walk down the hall and practically mowed down Greg Sanders. She helped him steady and muttered an apology. He grinned like a fifteen-year-old fresh out of braces and took her aside.

"I feel like playing Elvis," he whispered.

She wrinkled her forehead in confusion and he pointed to the man at the counter.

"Ecklie's head looks like a disco ball. I feel like a chorus of 'Hound Dog' is about to resonate from speakers all over the lab."

For some reason Sara found this all very funny and had to place her hand on the wall to keep from falling over. Had she been a hundred pounds heavier dressed in a red suit one might mistake her for Santa, she was laughing so hard. Ecklie heard the whooping and shot her a piercing glare. She took that as cue that it was time to get to work.

It appeared as though the inhabitants of the greater Las Vegas area had found better things to do on this day than kill one another. The grave shift stayed around the lab looking for ways to entertain themselves. Crowded around the break room table they gave ideas for things to do, but no one seemed to come up with anything worthwhile.

Greg got up from his chair and moved to the fridge. He removed a cherry-red apple from the second shelf and tossed it Sara's direction. It bounced off the table and landed on the floor, no doubt bruising the interior.

"Ping-pong," she said causing the other members of the team to look up from their various states of distress.

"What?" Greg asked. It was unlike Sara to utter random words. In fact, he'd hardly ever heard her say something that didn't relate to a case.

"I feel like a game of ping-pong. You know, the one with the paddles. I used to love that game as a kid. I haven't played it in ages."

"Well you haven't been a kid in ages," Nick said stressing the final word. This earned him a smack in the head from both Sara and Catherine.

"You're older than she is," the red-head said.

The room quieted a little and everyone soon drifted off back into disdain. It was one of the few times they actually wanted something to happen. At least that would give them something to do.

Grissom traipsed in the room whistling a tune. It was very off key so Sara could not recognize it. She doubted anyone else could either. He held up a sheet of paper and a few gasps erupted.

"Okay, I've got a case here. It won't take all of you, so who wants it?"

"Without knowing what it is? You've got to be kidding," said Warrick.

"That's a risk you'll have to take," Gil replied.

The following scene was like little kids in a toy store. Everyone except Greg and Sara jumped from their seats and made a grab at the sheet. Grissom seemed to take delight in this and pulled it out of their grasp. After getting a swift kick in the shin from Catherine he released the paper and the three eventually agreed to go together. Grissom limped back to his office and Greg and Sara stayed sitting at the table.

Greg leaned back in his chair and placed his feet up on the glass. He rubbed his chin and pursed his lips.

"You know, Sara," he said, "I just happen to have a ping-pong set stashed around here somewhere."

She chuckled. "Why does that not surprise me?"

He began to dig through the cupboards, tossing out strange objects that one would not think to find in a place of business. A rubber duck hit the floor and let out a small quack. Sara looked on with amazement at her coworker. At last he removed two wooden paddles and a small white ball.

They walked around the lab looking for a good place to set up. It was difficult; the lab had not been designed for game time. Greg got a familiar twinkle in his eye when they reached a small room directly across from Ecklie's office. The door was open, but the man sat with his back to it, his head shining brightly.

Sara scrunched her nose. "I don't know. Now that I look at it, his head seems more like a mirror."

"Yeah, I bet that's what Catherine does her makeup at when she's here," Greg responded.

The two laughed quietly and tip-toed into the next room. Greg set an array of small boxes in the center of a table to use as the net and tossed the small ball to his companion. She flicked it his direction with a bit more oomph than was necessary. It flew out the door and hit the wall in the hallway.

"Gentle, Sara, gentle," said Greg. He demonstrated and ball soared gracefully over the "net" and bounced on the other side.

She winded up and smacked at it. Greg dropped to the floor to avoid decapitation. Ecklie was not so lucky. The ball ricocheted off his head and continued on to bounce off several figures in his office.

Sara suppressed a laugh and walked in the office. She picked up the ball which had landed on a stack of papers and turned toward the very confused man.

"Sorry, sir," she said, "this little devil has been getting away from us all night. Strange piece of evidence, don't you think?"

He only nodded and watched wide-eyed as she returned from whence she had come.

An idea had emerged from Greg's mind while Sara was away. The two took turns on that side of the table trying their best to shoot the ball at the lab's Assistant Director. They found it especially amusing to make up excuses as to why this was happening.

"Your head's not made of metal, is it?" Greg asked. "We put a magnet in this thing, for experimental purposes of course, and it just seems attracted to you."

"You might want to call animal control about this," said Sara. "It seems to be extremely dangerous and I don't think it's safe for us mere C.S.I.s to handle."

Surprisingly, Ecklie let this go on for another hour before coming to the conclusion that the ball would not hit him if he closed his door. The top of his head was no longer a shiny, pasty white, but rather the color of Dorothy's ruby slippers.

Their fun was done and Sara and Greg went back to the break room busting at the gut. Sara held her side and felt like a six-pack was forming from all the laughing.

They collapsed on the floor, still breathing heavily.

"What do you suppose Ecklie did before working here?" Sara asked once she could speak.

"I don't know. He said something about helping with target practice at an army camp, didn't he?"

"I don't know where you heard that, but if it's true, I bet he really _did _help."

"Yeah," Greg replied sitting up and taking her by the hand, "I bet he _was_ the target."

They spent the rest of the night discussing why table tennis was now an Olympic sport and listing all the reasons Ecklie should try out. A particular favorite was so that people could see him get hit.

Warrick, Catherine, and Nick wound up in the break room at the end of shift and found an incredible sight. Sara and Greg lied curled up on the floor, clutching ping-pong paddles in their hands.

**A/N: Hmm. Your thoughts?**


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note: This is not necessarily a continuace of "Target," but since it has the same characters, I figured I'd tack it on. **

**Cherries and Cheesecake**

Lunch with Greg and Sara

Sara Sidle stood in her driveway with a can of wax in her hand, polishing the exterior of her car. Recent rainstorms and trips to dusty parts of the state had left it looking dull. Perhaps it was from her early years spent with her brother, but she really felt it was a car's duty to shine. As she dipped a rag into the can, she heard a car coming her direction. Looking up from the hood, she noticed the vehicle was much like her own.

The familiar crime scene logo was splashed across the side. She twisted the lid back on the can and did a quick scan to make sure she looked okay. Greg Sanders stepped out of the driver's side of the car, his blue sunglasses appropriately placed on the bridge of his nose. He was grinning, and Sara couldn't help but follow along.

"Whatcha doing?" he asked like a child.

She held up the can of "U-Wax" and the rag. "My car is dirty."

He took the items from her hands. "This is no way to spend your one day off in over a month. You're coming with me."

Arching an eyebrow, she walked to the front door of her house. "And where are we going?"

He set the wax on her kitchen table. "The new cheesecake factory opened down by the mall. I figured I'd treat you to lunch."

Sara began to wash her hands. "And you thought I'd want cheesecake for lunch?"

"Of course not. They serve real food as well. The cheesecake is for desert," he said wiggling his eyebrows.

She chuckled. "Let me change and we can go."

* * *

The restaurant was crowded, most people were faced with an hour-long wait, but Greg used his lab ID and boyish charm to get them in sooner. They sat at a booth in the back corner and were immediately served with glasses of wine.

Sara took a sip. "We didn't even order."

Greg lifted a menu. "I have amazing friends."

"Yes you do."

A man walked by with a little tray of cherries and Greg called him over. They each plucked up a few and began to snack.

Sara stuck a stem in her mouth and proceeded to try and tie it in a knot. Greg watched in fascination as her tongue swirled around in her mouth. She caught him staring and a light shade of pink found its home on her cheeks. Shortly after, she removed the tied stem from between her teeth.

Greg clapped and shoved his own stem into his mouth. Sara watched in amusement as he turned his head sideways and mumbled, trying to convince the stem to tie itself.

She was faced with a fit of giggles and a minute later found herself asking, "Are you sure you can do this?"

With a determined look on his face, he stuck the stem in the pocket of his cheek. "Of course, Sara. I didn't just fall off the turnip truck."

The bizarre phrase caught her by surprise and she erupted in laughter, only stopping when hiccups began. Greg placed the stem aside once more. "Okay, Sar," he said, "I think that's enough wine for you."

She did her best to hide the noises, but when Greg went back to twisting himself into awkward positions, she had to let them escape. They were causing quite a scene and people from a few tables over were watching intently. A waiter, obviously annoyed at the distraction, began to walk their way.

Sara covered her mouth with a napkin and did her best to state an apology.

Greg, however, found it necessary to converse with the man.

"Are the two of you alright?" he asked.

"Hubbumph shumfy," Greg mumbled with the stem in the center of his tongue.

"Excuse me, sir?"

"Dern taken guthy."

Sara couldn't help but laughing as the man's face folded into a frown. She asked for the check and paid before they could be kicked out.

"You are crazy," she said. "We can't ever go back there."

"Don't I know it." He pulled the stem from his mouth. "One of these days I'll get this thing in a knot."

With a devilish grin on her face, she pulled open the door to his car. "I can always teach you," she said.

"Well, if you aren't the brightest pea on the pod," said Greg.

"And you thought I had too much to drink." She took the stem from his hand, slipped it in her mouth, and quickly had it tied.

His eyes were wide with astonishment as he put the car in gear. "Where to?" he asked his date.

Her eyes sparkled. "I believe you owe me some cheesecake."

"I happen to have some at home."

"Good. It'll be much easier to teach you in private."

"Oh, I can't wait," he said and drove off.

* * *

**I would love to be the one teaching Greg how to tie that stem, wouldn't you? Review, please.**


End file.
